Only The Horses
by CielFangirl325
Summary: They'll hear us calling, and save us by morning light. Only the horses. Royai AU
1. Prologue

"NO! No, you stupid girl! You could've had that in three strides!" Berthold Hawkeye yelled at his daughter as she exited her show jumping round, grabbing her jumping crop from her hand and smacking her leg with it. Riza didn't even flinch, used to it by now in her fifteen years.

"If I did it in three I would've possibly knocked a rail coming into my triple combination." Riza told him calmly, dismounting and giving her comrade Gunner a pat and a kiss on the muzzle.

Berthold pulled the girl's face away, dragging her by the ear and the horse the the reins to it's stall. As soon as Riza had gotten the Gunner's bridle off the elder Hawkeye grabbed the jumping crop again and smacked the poor animal across the face. Gunner let out a blood chilling screech of a whinny and reared up, tossing his dappled grey head, which had been scarred from previous abuse from Riza's father and others. The whites of his eyes were visible and the terrified creature was practically blowing smoke out of his nose.

Even though she knew it was dangerous, Riza got between her hated father and her beloved horse, pushing Gunner backward by the chest and taking the next strike across her face. She tasted blood, but honestly couldn't care less. As long as her white horse's face wasn't marred by red, she and Gunner could be considered alright. Berthold simply rolled his eyes. "Get that useless wretch loaded and get your half assed self in the truck. We're going home."

Unable to stand it anymore, even though she knew the consequences, Riza turned to her father and simply said. "Don't judge a thing 'til you know what's inside it." That night in the barn, Berthold Hawkeye beat girl and horse until both were bloody, bruised, and broken in some places. At the end of it, neither could speak. They never did with words anyway, but the look in their eyes said one thing, and one thing only. Sticks and stones, blows and throws may bruise their bodies and break their bones, but nothing could break one's spirit.


	2. Chapter 1

"ATTA BOY! ATTA BOY! KICK 'ER! SHARP ROUND YOUR TURNS!" Eighteen year old Roy Mustang didn't need the yells of instruction as he turned around the metal barrels with practiced ease. He'd be doing this since he was eleven years old, and was one hundred percent confident that as long as he had Whiskey, under him, he could run the cloverleaf blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back.

"14.9 seconds! That time will take the win for eighteen year old Roy Mustang and his incredible little speed demon of a mare _Whiskey Undid My Zipper_!" The words came over the loudspeaker like thunder. The locally famed 'Mustang Rider' whooped and threw his hands up as he galloped through the gate to end his run. The roar of the crown, the thundering of hooves, and the voice of the announcer was better than any drug to him. He swore it could keep him alive.

Berthold Hawkeye laughed and screamed. "That's my boy!" He clapped Roy on the back as he dismounted, taking off the teen's cowboy hat and putting it over the chestnut Quarter Horse's ear. He ruffled Roy's hair. "Go get that ribbon, buckle, and cash! You and that horse earned that and more!" As Roy walked off Berthold shoved Whiskey's reins into Riza's hands. "Cool her off and get her prettied up. You're in big trouble if she doesn't look like a million bucks."

Riza sighed as she picked out Whiskey's hooves. She may be an English rider, but she could tell that Roy Mustang, her father's apprentice and crown jewel, was damn incredible and a force to be reckoned with. While Roy loved the glory and competition, Riza lived for the challenge and just the sheer feel of a horse under her. While both rode horses, that was where the similarities ended.

It may seem sad. A man's own daughter shoved aside for a boy not even related. This had been going on since Riza was eight, and she didn't expect any stop. It was life for her. It didn't upset her anymore. She had become numb to it, immune to the lack of positive and abundance of the negative. She had just learned to live with it. Sometimes the girl dreamed of being an equal to her male rival in her father's eyes. She didn't ask for more than equality. "Nice ass, Hawkeye."

Riza dropped Whiskey's hoof, stood up from her crouched position, and whirled around to see her rival standing there with a smirk on his face. "How long have you been there?!" She growled.

Roy chuckled, holding his hands up. "Relax. I've only been here like maybe two seconds." Riza raised an eyebrow in an expression of distrust, a hand on her hip. "Seriously. I never lie to girls."

"If we weren't in public I'd slap you stupid for being a chauvinist pig." The blonde told her companion coolly.

Roy tutted, shaking his head. "And here I was about to compliment you!"

"Compliment me?" Riza snorted, scowling in disbelief. "On what? My ass? My boobs?"

Roy had to laugh at her expression. "Both are mighty fine indeed but I was going to tell you how I liked your free horse dressage to music thingy. It had sass."

It was Riza's turn to laugh at him. "Three Day Eventers don't do a freestyle for dressage, dumbass." She thought for a second. "What do you mean by free horse, anyway?"

"Y'know," Roy leaned against the stall door, letting Whiskey snuffle his shoulder. "Like a week ago when you had the radio on with you in the round pen when you were playing with Bomber-"

"Gunner!" Riza corrected, rolling her eyes.

Roy shrugged and let Whiskey have a piece of candy from his pocket. "Same difference. Both are fiery weapons." That earned him a stern glare. "Anyway, when you were making Army Horse rear and do the fancy walking and trotting to music."

Riza sighed and simply shook her head. For being a horse person, this guy was incredibly thick. "That's not dressage. That's liberty. The 'fancy walking and trotting' was Spanish Walk, Passage, and Piaffe."

"Whatever." Roy turned from the female of the equine variety to the female of his own species. "Anyway, I have a proposition for you."

"No, I will not go out for a drink wi-"

Roy cut her off. "Maybe some other time. What I was going to say was, even though you never say it, I know you want to be equal to me." Riza was surprised by this statement, surprised enough to at least listen to what the boy had to say. She nodded for him to continue. "So I had a thought. I'll teach you to be a proper honky tonk cowgirl if you teach me to jump."

Riza smirked. "You realize I also have to teach you dressage to jump. You don't get to jump until you learn it."

Roy opened his mouth to argue but decided against it. This girl owned many riding crops. "How do we keep your dad from finding out?"

"I'm surprised that you'd go against your Lord." Riza drawled, but thought. "He'll be away for a few months starting Monday. Let's do it." She hoped she wasn't going to regret this.


	3. Chapter 2

Monday rolled around and Berthold Hawkeye left for his business trip, not forgetting to remind Roy to keep practicing and for Riza to stay away from him.

The second he was in his truck and out of sight both teens raced out to the barn, running to the pasture. "Who goes first to teach?" Roy asked, panting slightly.

Riza thought for a second, quickly getting an idea. She went over to a garbage can and pulled out six empty beer cans. "Stay here." She ran to the house, coming back minutes later with two handguns and a stopwatch. "We shoot. Whoever gets their cans in the quickest time goes first."

Roy nodded, but quickly saw a flaw in this plan. "How do we decide who goes first to shoot?"

Riza seemed to have already thought of this. "You see that scarecrow in the neighbor's field?" She asked, pointing to said scarecrow. Roy nodded. "We shoot at the same time. Whoever gets the most lethal shot goes first." Riza pulled two packs of bullets out of their pocket and each shooter loaded their gun and raised it. "On my mark. Three...two...one!" Both shot. Roy's bullet landed in the scarecrow's armpit, while Riza's was right between the eyes. "I win."

Roy sighed and shrugged, trying not to show that his pride had been wounded from being beaten by a younger, English riding girl. He grabbed the stopwatch and Riza raised her gun. He counted down for her. "Three...two...one!" He started the watch and Riza started shooting, knocking her three cans in a matter of moments. "That's time!" Roy chuckled the stopwatch to pause it. "3.2 seconds!"

Riza grinned and took the stopwatch from the Mustang Rider. Roy raised his gun with a confident smirk. "Three...two...one!" Riza started the stopwatch and clicked it when the black haired boy had finished. "4.1. Me first!" Roy groaned as he was dragged to the barn. He was going to regret this.

Riza helped him tack Gunner up in his dressage tack and held the horse by the bridle so her reluctant pupil could mount up. She got a lunge line and clipped it onto Gunner's bit. Roy rolled his eyes as he got his feet in the stirrups and took up his reins. "I know how to ride. I don't need to be on a lunge like some beginner."

Riza chuckled. "This just shows how much you know. A lunge line is not just used for beginners. It's used to build balance. The reason people think it's used for beginners only is because beginners don't know how to balance, but it can be used for anyone to build skill." Riza clucked gently and lead horse and rider into the arena.

"When do we get to do the fun stuff, also known as jumping?" Roy whined. They'd been walking around for fifteen minutes.

"Pick up your hands and get a more forward walk! Weren't you ever taught to direct rein?!" Riza instructed sharply, ignoring him. Roy sighed and did what he knew to do, kick and pick his hands up. Apparently, he had done too much as Gunner reared up and threw him into the arena footing. Everything went black to Roy for a moment.

As Roy's vision came back to him, the first thing he saw was the familiar face of Riza scowling down at him. "Anything broken, idiot?"

Roy grinned weakly. "Only my pride, sugar." He rasped out, having had the wind knocked out of him from the fall.

Riza rolled her eyes. "You appear to have fractures of the brain cells." She offered him a hand and helped him back onto Gunner. "For your little stunt, you get no reins of stirrups for the rest of the lesson." She said, tying the reins in a knot on Gunner's neck and yanking the stirrups completely off the saddle.

Roy's jaw dropped. "Why?! It wasn't my fault!"

"It really was." Riza said bluntly. "You knew that Gunner was dressage trained, which means he's sensitive. You've been riding for how many years? Seven? You should know by now that different horses require different handling. He's no rodeo pony and requires very subtle handling. Dressage is about being subtle and one with the horse. Having no reins and stirrups will teach you to use your seat and thighs to cue Gunner and help both yourself and him balance. Now, to some posting trot!"

Riza got Gunner trotting, but let Roy help a bit. She didn't want him on the ground again. Roy began to post, and Riza began to laugh hysterically. To be put simply, her pupil was all over the place. The cowboy was rising so high and leaning so far out of the saddle that it was like he was getting repeatedly stung in the ass by invisible hornets. Gunner was pinning his ears and tossing his head angrily, not enjoying having his back slammed down on every time Roy came down from rising. In two seconds Roy was on the ground again. Riza sighed. "We have a lot of work to do."


	4. Chapter 3

Tuesday morning. The two teens walked to the barn. Roy being a gentleman (or so he thought) and a playboy, he helped Riza groom and tack up. "Who the hell invented this?! It's stupid!" Riza exclaimed, frustrated as she threw down the cinch straps. "Why don't you just have a girth and billets like an English saddle?! It's so much easier!"

Roy chuckled. "Because we cowboys," Riza glared, arms crossed. "And cowgirls know how to actually do work." Riza growled, resisting the urge to slap this idiot. Roy ignored it. "Do you trust me?"

"Why do you ask?" Riza questioned, eyebrow raised.

Roy just smiled and stepped behind the confused girl, taking Riza's hands in his. Riza couldn't stop the flinch that followed. Roy just asked again, "Do you trust me?" Riza took a deep breath and nodded. Roy smiled more, slowly guiding her hands through the motions to do up the leather.

"How are you getting this so much easier than I did on Gunner?!" Roy exclaimed, watching in surprise as Riza rode circles around him calmly on Whiskey, one hand loosely on the reins and the other resting on her thigh in that classic, proper Western position.

"Because," Riza reasoned "Dressage is the basis for all riding. You know it, you can ride practically any discipline." She picked up a jog, which she also sat beautifully thanks to her dressage training.

"But doesn't having long, loose reins bother you?" Roy asked, confused. "You dressage people always have the horse in your hands so much."

Riza shook her head, riding a few figure eights and serpentines to prove the point she was about to make. "Proper dressage can be ridden with your reins just like I have them with her. Having contact and feel isn't about gripping the horse's mouth for dear life. It's about feeling your horse and moving with them, not controlling them. Besides, we do our Free Walk, which we have long reins for."

Roy couldn't think of a retort as the dressage picked up a nice, calm lope. He sighed. "You obviously are perfectly stable. Gallop for me."

Riza gave a little squeeze and was shocked when Whiskey took off like a bullet firing under her, bucking wildly. Roy was surprised by Riza's unease. "What's wrong? You gallop for cross country, how is this different?"

"I have my reins short in both hands and the horse is actually in control of itself!" Riza nodded, squeezing with her thighs and sitting back to try and half halt. Not being dressage trained, Whiskey just thought this meant 'Buck bigger and run more'. After a minute and a half of uncontrolled galloping and bucking, Riza finally could hold no longer hold on and fell, managing to fall on her knees.

Roy simply caught Whiskey and walked back over to Riza, who was dusting herself off. Besides looking rather disappointed in herself, she was alright. The girl flinched as the cowboy extended his hand, but instead he just rested it on her shoulder. "Can I tell you something, something I want you to remember for your entire life? Cowgirls don't cry. Ride, baby, ride. It's gonna hurt every now and then. If you fall get back on again. So remember Hawkeye, Cowgirls don't cry." Riza got back on and rode. She didn't cry.


	5. Chapter 4

The next day, it was Roy's turn for what he now called 'posh torture'. He walked begrudgingly to Gunner's stall with his makeshift teacher, but was confused when she passed it. "Aren't we going to use Gunner?"

Riza shook her head, stopping at the end of the barn aisle. "I don't want you getting dumped on your ass again."

Roy feigned a look of thanks. "Oh! So you do care about me!"

His companion just rolled her cinnamon coloured eyes. "I also don't want you ruining the work I put into my best partner, so come here."

Roy obeyed, jogging down to the stall Riza was standing in front of and peeking inside. "I'm gonna ride that midget?! I'll crush him!"

Riza rolled her eyes for the second time in two minutes, shaking her head. "Leo here may not look it, but he is actually taller than Whiskey at 15.1 hands versus Whiskey's 14.3. He just has a leaner build so it makes him look really small."

Roy nodded, grabbing Leo's halter and lead. He tied the black and white Paint securely and got to work grooming him. As Roy was picking out his feet, he felt the gelding snuffling and mouthing his butt. "Don't you dare bite me, brat!" He growled. Quickly, he tacked up. He chose the navy blue saddle pad with red rhinestones on it. The teen may be a dude, but he was a cowboy. Cowboys loved to be flashy.

At Riza's request, Roy lunged Leo a bit before he got on. He was shocked when the Andalusian cross went absolutely nuts, bucking and bolting wildly. "What the hell?! He seemed so calm!"

"He is." Riza reassured, just as Leo bucked out toward Roy.

Roy jumped out of the way, biting back a rather girlish whimper. "Is he homicidal or something?!"

Riza actually smiled at that. "If he was homicidal, I don't think he'd be owned, ridden, and competed by a crippled child." Upon hearing that, Roy sobered up a bit and started to trust Leo more, braiding his long forelock and tucking it under his bridle without fear of being attacked.

"Two rules with this horse." Riza told her pupil as she helped him into the saddle. "Don't let him go faster than a slow trot, and do not, under any circumstances, use your lower leg!"

Both rules proved very hard for Roy to remember, as both had been engraved in his brain by Berthold to always do. "What's he doing with his neck?!" The cowboy asked, as his mount curved his neck and lowered his head.

Riza actually smiled. "He's taking hold of the bit, and therefor you, and coming into a frame like he should. Do you feel his walk getting bigger?" Roy nodded. "Ask him for a bit of flexion...bend...Yes! That's it! Oh, you lost it. Halt for a second."

Roy halted. "I thought you said I had him! How'd I loose him so quickly?"

Riza snorted, rolling her eyes. "You got so proud of yourself when I praised you that you lost focus and forgot to really ride."

Roy smiled sheepishly. "Oops?" Riza sighed and stepped up beside Roy. She took his gloved hands and had the horse walk, three becoming one. As they say, behind every great man is a great woman.


End file.
